
Ever had it happen that you know you've picked up a character from something you watched/read, but s/he does nothing but sort of populate your distant mental background, like a total stranger you see at the bus stop every morning? And then one day for no reason at all, s/he comes strolling up, takes the seat next to you and starts talking? And doesn't stop?
(It turns out that Oshitari is the one who likes Laura Pausini. So much is explained.)
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Movies seen: Doppelganger, which is a violent black comedy in three acts, and Blessing Bell, an intimate allegory that's nigh-on a silent film.
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If indeed it turns out that I can never eat calamari again, I'm damn well holding a grudge against Chuck Palahniuk forever. It ain't right, coming between a girl and her food.
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The current fic is kicking my ass, as I've been whinging off and on in this space, but not for the usual reasons. It's kicking my ass because it's too easy. That's the measure of what it is as a story; it's not going to be the best piece of writing I've ever finished, and there's no way of making it so. This consideration doesn't concern the reader, but I rarely post a fic without the knowledge that it's pushed my boundaries as a writer. Boredom aside - why bother to do something if you know how it's done? - repeating myself makes me feel like a fraud. ^^;
Prolific writers, I find, keep aiming for a distant target: they toss and toss and toss, fall short a certain percentage of the time, and score a certain percentage. Every once in a while they hit the target hard enough to knock it back some, and are then forced to continue the game at a higher level of difficulty. I don't think I'm playing whatever odd variation of darts this describes; my game's more like golf, where I hit the ball once and trek after it until I've found it. As such I spend a lot less time actually swinging and a lot more wading about in ponds and sand pits.
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...Does seriously everything come back to Rikkai D1?